Morgana stared at the bottle of pills and the choice she saw before her. She felt alone, abandoned. Her parents didn't understand, let alone care. It would be a welcome end to the pain, her inner turmoil. Besides, it wasn't as if she had any friends. Her parents would probably be relieved. It would be so easy; all it would take is a bottle of water. She could do it tonight, by the time someone found her; it would be far too late. She reached toward the bottle.


V crumpled up the paper, disgusted. How could she write such twaddle? If her parents saw this, they would likely put her on suicide watch, or the looney bin at least. She tossed it toward the garbage can and missed it, naturally. It joined the other wadded up, torn and crumpled papers that were beginning to make a perimeter around the defenseless can. It seemed there was a shadow or something that moved, but that couldn't be. It was just the paper re-settling.

Thunder crashed and rain beat against the windows. V began to write.


It was dark and stormy the night Morgana took stock of her life.


V paused, and reached for her own prescription bottle. It was large, with a a big skull and crossbones printed on the label. It had been her Grandmother's; V took it from the room the night her Grandma died.

Suddenly, a shot rang out! No, really! It sounded like a gunshot, only, how to explain it, in miniature? The bottle rocked on the table, then fell off. It hit the floor with a crash, spilling pink M&M's all over the floor. "What?!" She got on her hands and knees and began picking up the candies, grumbling to herself. A small black and white mouse ran under her bed. Great. Mice. Her mother would call the exterminator. Again. V wondered what the harm was in a small mouse, but clearly her mother envisioned hordes of vermin overrunning the house and murdering them all in their beds or something equally as ridiculous.

"Penelope! Time for dinner!" Her mother's voice drifted up the stairs like a wraith looking for someone to scare.

"Coming Mom!" yelled V, exasperated. Had she really imagined her Mothers voice sounding like that? She chuckled to herself. If her parents knew her thoughts, she would doubtless be treated to another lecture on having an over-active imagination, and how she needed to live in the real world. She reached under the bed to grab the last two candies.

Suddenly she stopped and tried to sit up. She only succeeded in banging her head on the bed frame. "OW!"

"Penelope, now!"

"Just a minute, Mom! I'm almost ready!" she shouted, fighting back tears as she massaged her head. She must be hungry, low blood sugar is the only explanation for what she thought she saw. She peered under the bed, but only saw two lonely pink candies looking back at her. She decided to forgo getting them just now, as she glanced at the traitorous bed frame. "Ridiculous."

V stumbled up the stairs theatrically after doing the dishes. Maybe if her parents saw how utterly exhausted doing chores was, they would realize it would be in everyone's best interests if she was allowed to skip a few. Actually, she doubted it would work. Most likely, it would end up in yet another long-winded lecture about responsibility. Who wanted to be responsible at 15? She straightened up, and yelled downstairs, "Good night, love you both!"

"Good night, Penelope! Love you too!" said her Mother cheerily.

"Good night Nello! Don't let the bedbugs bite!" She could hear the grin in her Dad's voice.

"'Night Bag Dad! 'Night Mo Mar!" She grinned at the nicknames they had. How silly she had been when she was younger! Still, it was nice. She loved her parents, they just didn't understand her now. Sometimes, she didn't understand herself. Oh well. Grandma always said she would grow up, just in her own time.

Now, how to write this story? Not that she minded writing, on the contrary, she loved to write! It was just, who ever heard of writing a story for Health class? Isn't Health class the one where you have to sit uncomfortably through 'The Human Reproductive System' videos? A story? For Health class? "Ridiculous." she muttered, then sat back to think.

She remembered the candies, and the mouse. And that … other thing. Nothing for it, she needed to get that food before her Mother found it. She crawled under the bed warily, looking for something, anything to verify or disprove what she thought she saw. An old, forgotten Barbie? No, she got rid of those years ago, besides, she and her parents tore this room apart and re-carpeted, re-painted and revived this room not six months ago. There were no old toys. After retrieving the offending chocolates, she looked everywhere for an explanation. Nothing! There was nothing here to explain what she saw. And she hadn't hit her head until after she saw that, whatever it was.

Thoroughly annoyed now, she got settled down in her favorite chair and tried to write. Changes. She had to write about what kind of change would make someone decide to not take his or her own life. Not having to write dumb essays for dumb classes, that would convince her to keep living! She'd much rather work on her own stories. The one about the swashbuckling pirate captain was fun.


Red Anne swooped in with her sword flashing, fighting the...


V caught a movement in the corner of her eye. It was that mouse again! She wished she had some bread or chips or something to give the little thing. She made a mental note to bring some to her room tomorrow, hopefully the mouse would still be hanging around. It was adorable! It's little white paws and tail was so clean. She wished once again, in vain, that her Mother would allow her to keep a pet. Maybe if she could keep the mouse secret? She made little kissy noises at the mouse and wiggled her fingers. "Here little mouse, I'd like to be your friend. Come here, sweetie."

The mouse gave her a look as if to say, 'what kind of an idiot are you?', as it scampered along her ledge. But that wasn't all that was scampering along the ledge was it? True, it was up by the ceiling, but that was no figment of her over-active imagination, no matter how she tried to justify it. That was a tiny, purple woman running behind the mouse.